


Acting Like I'm Heartless (I do it all the Time)

by sec982



Series: Telling People [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Island, Blackmail, F/M, Felicity Smoak is a Merlyn, Panic Attacks, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sec982/pseuds/sec982
Summary: After finally managing to successfully tell Tommy about their engagement and pregnancy, Oliver and Felicity are taking steps to prepare for parenthood, when the worst happens. Moira Queen finds out. And they thought Tommy's reaction was bad!This is part of a series and should be read in order.
Relationships: Moira Queen/Robert Queen, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: Telling People [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987759
Comments: 262
Kudos: 437





	1. Prologue

Oliver was feeling uncomfortable with Tommy glaring at him. He was trying to stay focused on Diggle’s younger brother though, and succeeding for the most part.

“Let me get this straight,” Oliver said. “You’re saying that’s another delay.” He was beginning to wonder if hiring this contract as a favor to John had really been the best business decision.

“Look man, it’s a permit thing so unless you know someone at City Hall.”

“We do,” Tommy said, finally directing his glares towards Andy. “We’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not sure if we should keep him, Tommy,” Oliver muttered as Andy stalked off cursing. “I know you were reluctant, and I feel like this is my fault.”

“It’d cost too much to replace him, and besides it’d make things awkward for you and John. I’d let it go for now, but we’ll keep an eye on it. Besides, we both know you’ve done worse.”

Oliver winced, and matters were not helped by the door to the factory sliding open and bespeckled blonde entering the building, Diggle not far behind.

“The hell do you think you’re doing!” Oliver and Tommy said at the same time, united for once. They both swooped upon Felicity. Oliver cupped her elbow and steered her back out of the building. Tommy slammed the door shut behind her.

“Pregnant people do not belong in construction zones, Lis.” 

“I’m aware, but did you know neither of you has cell service in there? I’ve been calling for like ten minutes.” 

Oliver glanced down and was horrified to see she was right. He had zero bars. 

“You’ll need to fix that before opening,” Digg said with a rye smile. “How will drunk Instagram influencers post about your dance floor?”

“If we ever open,” Oliver grumbled, and Tommy shot him a look. 

“Problems with Andy?” Digg sounded worried.

“No,” Oliver lied. “Of course not. What’s up?” He changed the subject back to his pregnant fiancee. 

“We’re late for the realtor, and Laurel told me to remind you, that you’re supposed to be at the florist’s.” Her second sentence was directed at Tommy.

“Shit,” Tommy whispered, pulling out his phone and keys. “Screw the Instagram influencers, we need to get the service extender so Laurel doesn’t kill me.” 

“I mean we all know she’s going to kill you someday anyway. Why waste the money?” Felicity quipped. Her brother smiled at her and kissed her forehead. He put an arm around her and started walking her back towards the parking lot. 

“Where are you guys looking?” he asked, glancing at Digg. He’d noticed that about three days after he came to Lis’ apartment, Oliver had started having Digg working her security. He hadn’t commented. He didn’t want Oliver to know he was doing a good job. He preferred to keep his best friend/future brother in law on his toes. 

“We’ve been arguing about that,” Felicity supplied. “That and the budget.”

“Is the budget really a problem?” Tommy asked, shooting Oliver a look.

“I said I’d pay for everything,” Oliver said. He sounded exasperated.

“It has to be a fifty-fifty contribution.” 

“It really doesn’t.” 

Tommy felt guilt settling in his stomach, thinking about Felicity’s trust fund that was sitting untouchable in the bank. Malcolm was having a hard time getting the funds back in his name, and Felicity was unable to access the account till she turned 28, which was still four years away. 

“It shouldn’t have to be so unbalanced, Lis. I could talk to dad.”

“If you talk to Malcolm about me, Laurel won’t be the one who kills you.”

“I still think I should pay for the whole thing,” Oliver cut in. “When you finish your degree we both know you’ll be the one making the majority of the money, so it shouldn’t matter if I pay for the house upfront.”

“No. I am a contributing member of our family.”

“I want to thank you, Tommy,” Digg said, “for bringing this up, so I can listen to this argument for the third time this week.” 

“Well I hate to kick up sore subjects and run,” he responded, as they arrived at the parking lot. He kissed Felicity on the cheek, noting how pale she was looking. He’d hoped she’d look better after finishing her first year of grad school, once stress was no longer a strong factor in her life, but apparently the coloring was due to the morning sickness. He shook Diggle’s hand and nodded at Oliver, who was being careful to keep all limbs to himself, till Tommy was out of sight. 

Oliver slid his hand into the small of Felicity’s back as she got in the car, and he followed her.

“You are a contributing member of this family,” Oliver whispered as the door closed. He touched her stomach, to emphasize his point. “You focus on growing the little bundle of cells into a baby and let me handle the rest, please.”

She covered her hand with his, pressing it into her. He was intimately familiar with her abdomen these days. He knew she wasn’t showing yet, but enjoyed feeling the firmness and fullness there, even if she insisted it was just his imagination. 

As Digg opened the door, Oliver’s phone started to ring. He slipped his hand off his fiancee and checked the caller ID. 

“Mom?” he asked, picking it up. 

“Why is there a charge for an engagement ring on your credit card?”

_ Shit.  _


	2. Chapter One

“It’s my personal card mom. Why are you even looking at the statement?” he demanded. He was leaning against the car outside an apartment building on a tree-lined street. He’d sent Felicity and John inside when it became obvious he wasn’t going to get off this phone call easily. 

“Walter called me about how he thought he noticed some unusual charges for you and was worried about identity theft. I opened the statement I found in your room, so I could get back to him quickly.”

“Walter Steele should have called me about it, not you.”

“He’s my accountant, Oliver.”

“Great, I’ll get one of my own.” 

“You’re dodging the question.” 

“What question?”

“Why is there a charge for an engagement ring on your credit card?” 

Oliver paused. They had barely recovered from telling Tommy two weeks ago and had wanted to focus on getting things on solid ground before going to his mom. They’d agreed that she’d take the news better if they were living together in an honest to goodness family home, with room for the baby, rather than in Felicity’s grad school apartment with two roommates. Damn Walter Steele and his loyalties. 

“Because I bought an engagement ring.”

“Is she pregnant?”

“Why is that everyone’s first question?” 

“Is she?” 

Oliver let out a huff but was distracted by the door opening to the building. Felicity was exiting, not ten minutes after walking in. The real estate agent was behind her looking confused. 

“Hang on mom.” He covered the speaker, lowering his phone momentarily. “What happened?”

“Too expensive and aristocratic. It looks like a place our parents would buy.”

“Your parents actually brought Tommy home to a unit in this building,” the relator said from behind her. Felicity held her arms out, as though that proved her point. 

“That’s a no then,” Oliver said, knowing anything her father thought was good was a nonstarter right now. “Can we maybe look somewhere less,” he paused looking for the word.

“Less pretentious,” Felicity offered. The agent scoffed. 

“I’ll look over the listings and get back to you.” 

“Thank you,” Oliver said to her. He brought the phone back up to his ears. “What were you saying, mom?”

“OLIVER! Get over here now!” 

Digg swung him back through the Club’s parking lot and he picked up his bike, taking his time riding it over to his mother’s. Felicity offered to go with him, pointing out she owed him from how she’d let him tell Tommy on his own. She privately thought that if Oliver had let her handle it, Tommy wouldn’t have punched him and no one would have gotten arrested. But he’d insisted. He would rather talk to his mother by himself, and Felicity let him. She’d always been afraid of Moira Queen. 

When he pulled into his parent’s driveway, Raisa was waiting in the open door. She almost seemed to be bouncing on her heels. 

“Is there going to be a baby?” she asked him in Russian. It had been their secret language throughout his childhood. He smiled at her, and she grinned back. She took his coat and directed him to the sitting room. His mother was standing with her back to the door facing the window, biting her thumb. 

“Mom,” Oliver said, stepping around the couch to stand within a few feet of her.

“Who is she?” 

“Felicity Merlyn.” 

Moira’s head snapped around at that. 

“You got Malcolm Merlyn’s daughter pregnant?”

He glared. “Why do you assume she’s pregnant? Why can’t I have asked her to marry me because I love her.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yes. I’d been seeing her for almost five months, and she was not pregnant when I proposed.”

“Is she now?”

“Eight weeks.” 

“You’ve been hiding an engagement from us for eight weeks!”

“Technically only six and before you say anything-”

“I remember how they calculate pregnancy, Oliver. I did go through it twice.” His mother walked back to the couch as she spoke and took a heavy seat, covering her mouth with one hand. He took the seat opposite her.

“Who else knows?”

“Tommy, and I guess he probably told Laurel. Felicity’s roommates, Caitlin Snow and Iris West know. And John Diggle is aware.”

“You haven’t told your sister or your father then.”

“No.”

“Good. There’s still time to fix this.”

Oliver sucked in a breath. “Fix what exactly?”

“I assume you are unaware that Malcolm Merlyn cut Felicity off about seven or eight months ago.”

“I actually did know that, and it was seven. Believe it or not, I have talked to my fiance about her relationship with her father.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t realize what she’s up to then.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. 

“Excuse me.”

“Oh, my beautiful boy.” There was pity in her voice, and Oliver had to bite his tongue. “A girl like Felicity Merlyn will be used to a certain standard of living, and I’m sure after her father cut her off she started looking for an available billionaire to trap, to provide that lifestyle.” 

“No.” 

“I know it’s difficult to hear darling, but I can take care of it. You won’t have to think about it again.”

“You’ll do no such thing. She does not want my money. Do you know what we’ve been fighting about lately?”

“Oliver-”

He cut her off. 

“The budget for a new apartment, and how she won’t let me pay for it. She’s insisting on contributing an equal amount of money for everything Mom, to the point that it’s actually making finding a decent place for the baby a problem. Believe me, she’s not in it for the money. She loves me.”

“I’m sure darling,” she said. It was only because Oliver really knew his mother, that he knew she didn’t believe him. 

“Stay away from her,” he snapped. 

“Excuse me.”

“You heard me.” He got to his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She’s already had to take a trip to the ER for pregnancy-related reasons, and I don’t want a repeat ambulance ride. Tommy didn’t take the news well and between that and this thing with Malcolm and her finishing her finals last week, she’s been stressed. I assume you remember that stress isn’t good for pregnancies. She doesn’t need to hear about your baseless accusations.”

“How do you even know it’s your baby?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response. Nor am I going to sit here and tolerate you insulting the mother of your grandchild, the woman I love, and your soon to be daughter in law. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Thea, since she and Felicity are close. She’s looking forward to telling her when the first trimester is over.”

“And your father?”

“Tell him whatever you want, but the order to stay away from us applies to him if he shares your line of thinking.” He turned and walked towards the door. 

“And I’ll send Raisa my new address so she can forward my mail from now on. Don’t go through my things again.” 

>>\----->

“Raisa!” Moira called after she heard the sound of Oliver peeling out of the driveway. The housekeeper appeared at the door. Moira registered the confusion on her face but ignored it. “I need Adrian Chase’s number.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

She bit her tongue, picking up the phone, and dialing a more familiar number. It rang three times before the cocky voice on the other end answered.

“Why hello Moira. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just thought you should know, your daughter has her claws in my son.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then a chuckle.

“She always was a smart girl. I knew she’d take care of herself.” 

“I want you to uncut her off.”

“No.”

“Merlyn, I don’t give a damn about whatever little controlling games you’re playing with her. This is about my son and his future.”

“And this is about my family and the dishonor she’s brought to it. I shouldn’t have ever even bothered with her.”

“But you did, and disinheriting someone with a trust fund is a legal nightmare. I can’t imagine you’ve untangled yourself from it in less than a year.”

“Doesn’t matter. She can’t touch it for another four years. I’ll have drained it by then.” 

“Or you could give it to her, on the condition that she leaves Oliver.”

“And why would I do that?”

“To stop me from calling my PI and launching an investigation into her to see what dirt I can dig up that’s good enough to have all of this taken care of.” 

“That poor PI is going to be so bored. She’s a good girl.”

“But are you?”

“I don’t think you understand what you’re doing.” The mirth was gone from his voice.

“This is my family, Malcolm. I don’t think you understand how far I’m willing to go.” 

“Careful Moira. We both know no PI I set loose on you or your husband would not be lacking entertainment.”

Raisa entered with a business card in hand. Moira took it, examining the number. 

“Well then Malcolm, I suppose we’ll have to see if you unfreeze your daughter’s assets or if I have to fire a shot.” She hung up the phone with a click. Her fingers were already dialing the new number.

“Adrian. It’s Moira Queen. I need you to launch an investigation into the Merlyn family, and pay particular attention to the daughter.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to this story and series, in general, continues to overwhelm me. I'm shocked every time I see the hit count. I'm so glad you are all continuing this journey with me. I'm having so much fun writing and sharing this series.
> 
> I tweaked a few things about this story last night and now it's going to have eight chapters instead of nine. I didn't cut anything, so it's not shorter. I just broke up a chapter for flow reasons. 
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support. I love and appreciate all the comments even if I don't respond to them all. Please stay safe and healthy!


	3. Chapter Two

“How’d it go?” Felicity asked, sitting up in bed, tablet balanced on her knees, back supported by all the pillows they owned. Oliver sat down on the bench at the end of the bed to take off his shoes. 

“As expected.”

“That bad?” 

He grimaced, grateful his back was to her. 

“Doesn’t matter what she says,” he mumbled, climbing into bed. She lifted her tablet up, allowing him to nuzzle his head into her stomach. “All that matters is that we know the truth.” 

“That’s what you said about Tommy, and I can tell his reaction is still bothering you.” 

He had said some very unkind things about Oliver. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, glancing at her tablet and seeing, not the real estate websites she normally checked, but her school's registration page. “What are you doing?”

“Okay, so that. Um...don’t get growly on me. I haven’t done anything wrong”

“Why would I get growly if you haven’t done anything wrong?”

“I kinda maybe called my advisor and had an emergency meeting with him, about finding a way to finish my grad school program before the baby comes. And it’s totally possible he said. I just have to take a full course load over the summer and email my fall professors about taking the finals a month early. Then I can do the whole new mom thing and do the graduation ceremony in spring with Iris and Caitlin, which I know none of us are studying the same thing so you might wonder how we can do the ceremony together, but as it turns out for graduate students they only do one big ceremony. That kinda makes sense though since there aren’t as many of us because who really wants to keep being in school when you can get a job and-”

“Felicity, you just finished your finals,” Oliver said, sitting up. “And, no offense, but you have not been looking great these past couple of weeks. You’re still pale. You’re vomiting on and off all day and you have circles under your eyes. I know you aren’t sleeping well.”

“That’s all first trimester problems. I’d feel that way even if I wasn’t in school.” 

“Yes but stress isn’t good for you or the baby, and grad school is stressful. I don’t think you should do it. Just take a year off, relax, your education will be waiting for you after the baby’s born.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not going to be a human incubator for the next 32 weeks. I set the goal to finish grad school in two years, so I’m going to finish in two years.” 

“I didn’t mean you should be an incubator, I just meant-”

“Don’t. You want to pay for the apartment. You want me to relax and kick my feet up, while you take care of everything. Well if you were looking for some kind of barefoot and pregnant partner then you picked the wrong girl to carry your spawn, Queen,” Felicity huffed, getting out of bed. 

“Spawn?”

“Shut up. It’s my life and my body and if I want to walk my ass into a construction site or a classroom, I have every right to do that. Do you understand?”

“Yes, you do have that right. And I have a right, as the father of said spawn, to tell you if I think it’s a bad idea.” He swung his legs over the bed and put his hands on her waist. “I don’t want to upset you or stop you living your life, but I’m worried, Felicity. It’s like you don’t seem to understand what’s happening to you.” 

“I’m sorry am I not throwing up all the time, and getting headaches and needing naps in the middle of the day? Did I miss that? No, Oliver of course I know. I’m the one who had to start taking prenatal vitamins and gave up alcohol and sushi and  _ caffeine _ .” Her voice actually choked on the last word. “And let me tell you that was a bitch, going through withdrawal without being able to take ibuprofen, just ‘Tylenol products,’' she said, momentarily mimicking the OB they’d been to after her ER visit. “News flash Tylenol doesn’t fracking work on headaches!” 

“I know. I know,” Oliver said, pulling her into him. As they’d gotten more comfortable with each other, her babbling had decreased, seeing as she wasn’t nervous around him anymore. But as the pregnancy progressed and she began to feel more frazzled, he suspected he’d be in for some long-winded rants. 

“If it’s important to you,” he said softly, speaking into her shoulder. “To go to school and to feel like you can control this element of your life, I can live with it.”

She deflated a little in his arms. She hadn’t even realized how desperately she needed something to be normal and like before until he said the words. “Thank you.”

“But you need to talk to the OB about the sleeping problems. And no construction sites. Send John in if you can’t get a hold of me”

“I can agree to that.” 

“And he goes with you to class.”

“Oliver!” 

“Please. For my sanity.”

“Isn’t that what your mother said when she hired him?”

“Yes, so I know that line works.”

“Fine,” she huffed. “Your mother is going to be pissed this is how you’re using the bodyguard she pays for.” 

>>\----->

Felicity shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Her desk squeaked and the room full of men all turned and glanced at her. The one sitting next to her kept throwing her dirty looks as she unwrapped ginger candy after ginger candy. She matched him dirty look for dirty look. Had he poured the cologne over his head before sitting next to her innocent pregnant nostrils?

She was fighting back the urge to vomit. As if she wasn’t already drawing enough attention to herself being the only woman in this computer programming class. She didn’t want to be the only woman in class, clad in her pink pencil skirt, who also threw up in the trash can at the back of the room. 

She hardly heard what the professor was saying. It was a relief when the class ended, and she was able to zip out of her seat to the back, where Diggle was stationed by the door. He followed her out on the quad where she sat heavily on a bench, putting her head between her knees. He sat next to her, holding out a bottle of water. She took it wordlessly sitting back up and taking a small sip. The fresh air and cool breeze on her skin were bracing and with the taste of ginger still in her mouth, the nausea was passing.

“I remember when Lyla was still in her first trimester any time the temperature went up five degrees she’d start to feel woozy.”

Felicity grimaced.

“This is why Oliver wanted you on me? In case I pass out again.” It was a mark of how sick she was feeling that she didn’t blush at her phrasing. 

“Take it easy on him. He’s worried about you. I haven’t seen him wound so tight since after he was kidnapped. Keep drinking the water.”

She took another sip, leaning back into the bench. The birds chirped around them. 

“Lot of men in that room,” Digg observed.

“And all of them must have showered in cologne,” she grumbled. 

“Seriously. You were the only woman.”

“Not shocking. There are only five other women in the computer engineering program, and they all took the summer off.” 

“Only six female students in a 100 person department. Jesus Christ.”

“It’s more like 250.” 

“Damn.” 

“One thing to read about sexism and another to see it. I don’t think you want to know how many of them are also white.”

“Now this is just depressing Merlyn.” 

She smiled, but the conversation was cut short by her ringing phone. She frowned at the number. It looked familiar but she couldn’t place it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Felicity Merlyn. This is Moira Queen.”

_ Frak. _

“Mrs. Queen! Hi, how are you? In shock? Not that I hope you’re in shock. I hope you’re doing well because when people are doing well it’s good. Though it’s okay if you’re in shock. It’s important that people be able to discuss how they’re feeling. In this day and age, there’s sometimes a stigma around people’s mental health, but I always say-”

“Felicity.” 

“Right,” she corrected herself, cursing internally. “What can I do for you?”

“I know it’s last-minute but I was hoping we could get lunch?” 

Felicity checked her watch. Her next class wasn’t until 3:30, and she’d been planning on using her four-hour break to study and take a nap. However, this seemed, important. 

“I could do lunch.”

“Wonderful? Burruccio’s?”

“Um, can we actually do Giovanni’s if you want Italian? Burruccio’s is out of my price range these days, not that I ever actually eat there. They cook their vegetables in peanut oil, to which I am deathly allergic.” 

“Giovanni’s is...fine.” 

“Wonderful 12:30?”

“I’ll make a reservation.” 

>>\----->

“Damn it,” Oliver’s voice snapped from the back office. They’d just managed to squeeze two desks into the foreman’s old space, and Tommy practically had to climb up on one of said desks to close the door. He did so, shrugging off his jacket as he went. 

“Problems cooking the books already?”

Ollie’s dirty blond head popped up from under his desk, and Tommy took in the dust that had settled in his hair and the boxes and instruction manuals spread across the surface. 

“I had every cell service company in the area rush-ship us service extenders, and none of them fucking work.” He tossed a power cord on his desk before sitting in his chair and knocking his head against the back wall. “And why did you get such massive desks!”

“They were a gift from your father. He was practically crying when he told me he was having them delivered, going on about how good it was to see you working.”

“They’re ridiculous.”

“I agree, mahogany is not really my style, but when they’re done with the construction downstairs we’ll get them to extend the office and it won’t feel so stupid.” Tommy nodded his chin at the empty boxes. “And you should just call Lis about those.”

“I might have given her a lecture less than a week ago about not setting foot in an active construction zone.”

“Well, that was stupid of you.” 

Oliver waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll just have her set it up when she installs the wifi after construction is over if it’s ever over.”

“Another delay?”

“Freaking shipping problem with the concrete. Apparently, Andy didn’t order the mixer when he ordered the concrete itself. It’s like he doesn’t even know what he’s doing.”

“Not possible,” Tommy said, frowning. He might have agreed to Andy because of Oliver’s relationship with John, but he’d checked him out before. “I called all his references, including his and John’s C.O. in the army. Glowing reviews all around.”

“Then maybe he’s high,” Oliver snapped, scrubbing his face with his hands. 

Silence. 

“It is common for veterans to develop substance problems,” Tommy said thoughtfully. Oliver’s jaw set. He picked up his jacket and hoisted himself across his desk. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to subtly walk by Andy’s trailer and see if I spot anything suspicious. Besides, I’m supposed to check in with Felicity. She finished her first summer class.”

Tommy groaned. 

“You’re letting her take summer classes? I thought she was supposed to be taking it easy.”

“Try telling her that. You’ll get a whole feminist speech about not becoming a human incubator. I’ll tell her you said hi though.” 

Moments later Oliver was outside, trying to subtly train his head so he could see through Andy’s drawn curtains. His phone was pressed to his ear. 

It rang several times before going straight to voicemail. At first, Oliver didn’t notice, he was watching Andy talking animatedly on the phone. He watched the man gesturing wildly. He couldn’t see his pupils from here. Was the wild gesture due to passionate demands to get the mixer delivered before next week? Or was it something else? The beep of Felicity’s voicemail dragged him back to his task at hand.

“Hey, I’m just calling to check-in.” He glanced at his watch. It was almost one. “I thought your class ended at 11:30 but maybe you’re studying or resting. Anyway, give me a call. I was thinking Chinese tonight. Love you.” 

He hung up, looking at her picture in his contacts. He’d taken it as a joke when they’d first traded numbers the night he found her at Max Fuller’s club. They’d been in Big Belly Burger and she had ketchup on the side of her mouth. She was stretching over the table, trying to stop him from snapping the photo, but the smile on her face clued him into the possibility that maybe she was more amused than annoyed. 

His thumb hovered over John’s number for an instant. It wasn’t like her to not answer her phone, and John could at least give him a location. But she would consider that crossing a line. It’d taken so much to get her to agree to have Digg’s protection, he didn’t want to risk pissing her off. Plus he couldn’t talk to John and not bring up his fears about Andy, and he wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. He moved back towards the club, unable to shake the horrible feeling in his gut that something bad was happening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely readers. It occurs to me that this is probably not a nice fic to be posting during the holidays, what with complicated family drama. Will that stop me? No, but it's just a thought.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I'm so happy with the response this story/series has gotten, and I hope you are continuing to enjoy. I do love and appreciate all the comments, even if I don't respond to all of them. Thank you so much, and please stay safe and healthy, especially if you're traveling.


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off the response to the last chapter, I'm warning you all now that you're going to be a little upset with me at the end of this. Don't worry though, I'm not planning on stopping my update schedule for the holidays, so I'll be back next week. 
> 
> Happy Reading, Happy Holidays, and stay safe and healthy!

“Felicity!” Moira Queen’s voice called, somehow without yelling and oozing elegance as she waved across the restaurant. The hostess stepped aside allowing her to pass, and she took a seat, across from her future mother-in-law, noting that Mrs. Queen did not get up to greet her. 

“Hi Mrs. Queen,” she said, not knowing where else to start. The matriarch tilted her head, taking her in. They’d been together many times, but somehow Felicity felt like Oliver’s mother had never really seen her before. 

“It’s been a while, Felicity.”

“Yes, not that I mind. You’re a busy woman, what with helping your husband be CEO and all the charities that you run. Not that I don’t want to spend time with you either, it’s just that I don’t want you to feel guilty for not talking to me. It’s not like you had a reason to, and I’m just going to stop talking in three...two...one.” Felicity took a drink from her water to try and calm herself.

Moira’s eyes landed on the ring, as blond brought the glass to her lips. 

“It seems, I have a reason to talk to you now.” 

She followed her gazed and blushed, setting her water down and twisting the band with her thumb. 

The waiter came by and they ordered. Mrs. Queen tried to order the most expensive wine on the menu but Felicity begged off, asking for sparkling water. There was an uncomfortable silence between ordering and the waiter bringing the drinks. 

“I’m surprised you don’t want to celebrate.” Mrs. Queen observed, as she swirled her wine, eyes trained on her companion.

“I thought Oliver told you about how I can’t  _ partake _ right now.” She glanced around, half expecting to see reporters with their ears peeled and tape recorders held up. She suddenly registered that they were the only two in the room.

“I bought out the restaurant Felicity, and the staff is under strict instructions not to come into the dining room unless it’s to serve us. We can speak freely.”

Felicity paled. “That’s a lot of money to spend on lunch.” Her fingers were twitching and she suddenly wanted to call Oliver, but Mrs. Queen was already bending down, plucking a folder from her purse. She slid it across the table to Felicity, who took it gingerly. Her eyes widened as she took in the contents, and she snapped it closed.

“I had our private investigator do a little digging, you understand. It’s a common precaution against false claims of paternity.”

“I’m not making a false claim of paternity.”

“If you say so.”

“You are aware your son has slept with the majority of the women in this city, and you’re calling  _ me _ a slut? I’m a one-man kind of woman. It’s Oliver’s.”

“Be that as it may,” the matriarch continued. “I don’t think this is the best time for you and Oliver to be pursuing this. He’s trying to get his new business venture off the ground, and your father cut you off less than a year ago, not to mention your graduate program. How do you plan to support a baby while making student loan payments.”

“People do it,” Felicity said, feeling pressure in her chest. 

“But you aren’t people dear. You’re a Merlyn.” Mrs. Queen took a long sip of her wine. “I know how Malcolm raises his children, soft and unprepared for the world, especially a world in which they don’t have money.”

Felicity bit her lip. The waiter appeared, placing dishes of pasta down before them, and scurried back into the kitchen. 

“I’ve known you since you were a baby Felicity. Your mother was one of my closest friends.”

Felicity felt nauseous at any mention of Rebecca Merlyn. 

“Let me help you. It’s what she’d want.” She opened the folder and moved the PI’s background check on her out of the way. The hacker saw bank records of her trust fund, with her father’s signatures on it. “Your father is taking steps to devalue your trust fund before you turn 28. Whatever you did to upset him, I must congratulate you. I’ve never seen Malcolm so rattled. I can guarantee you the ability to keep pushing his buttons, without taking his money or giving up any of your Merlyn lifestyle.” She pulled a check from the folder with a flourish and placed it in Felicity’s trembling fingers. 

“That is a check for five million dollars, which is about half the value of your trust fund at present. Tell Oliver you don’t want to be with him, and it’s yours. I’ll write you a check for the other five million after you’ve had an abortion.”

Felicity’s head snapped up. She dropped the check like she’d been burned. 

“No,” she said, her mouth very dry. It came out raspy. 

“Take the money, Felicity. You’ll be able to pay for grad school and get a good apartment in a decent neighborhood, and all of this will be just like a bad dream.”

“I said no.”

Mrs. Queen stared at her for a moment. 

“If you say no,” and Moira’s tone was no longer soft, but clipped. “I’ll have no choice but to ask my PI to keep digging. And we both know no one is without some dirty laundry. And I know my son; this engagement won’t last. Anything my PI finds would just build up his case. Imagine how it would play out in court or a custody hearing. A single mother with no resources and student debt. It’d all be very painful. Better to just take the money.”

Felicity stood up, panic gripping her. It’d been what happened to Donna, yes, but the idea of Oliver suing her for custody, trying to take her child away was ludicrous. Right? He wasn’t like her father? He couldn’t be?

Then another horrible thought occurred to her. Screw the custody problems. She was a hacker. Not a stupid one, but a hacker none the less. If Moira found out she could turn Felicity in, instantly. Better to take the money, stop this in its tracks, and…

“No.” Felicity repeated. Her head was whirling. She felt dizzy. She barely remembered to grab her purse on her way out the door. The bright light confused her, dazed her. She stepped onto the sidewalk, having to remind herself to push air into her lungs. Oliver! Would he believe her? Had he put his mother up to this? Would he really sue her for custody? Take her baby away from her? Oh god, she’d wind up just like her birth mother. 

“Felicity?” Diggle’s voice registered and she had forgotten that he was with her. Oliver wouldn’t have done that unless he cared right? Maybe he was only doing it for the baby.

The bag she’d barely managed to grab slipped from her fingers and landed on the sidewalk with a thud. A hiss escaped her lips as a sharp pain shot through her. She buckled. Digg caught her. 

“Hospital,” he said before she’d even been able to register what happened. 


	5. Chapter Four

Why was there no god damn cell service in his club! Oliver was running through the hospital. Tommy so close behind him they crashed into each other every time Oliver slowed to turn. Andy Diggle had come in from his contractor trailer to tell them he’d gotten a call from John. He’d been trying to call Oliver or Tommy for twenty minutes. He was at Starling General with Felicity. Andy had said she was okay, that his brother was just being cautious, but Oliver did not trust Andy’s judgment and memory. He and Tommy raced from the club, while panic was building in Oliver’s chest. 

Oliver slammed against the door frame to room 148 and ricocheted into the room. Tommy crashed into his back, and they both tumbled to the floor. 

“I see you have many calming presences in your life,” said a familiar male voice. Oliver looked up to see Felicity in bed, hooked up to several machines, and an oxygen mask pressed to her face. Dig was sitting on a stool beside her and the same ER doctor who’d told them she was pregnant was consulting a clipboard. 

“What happened?” Oliver asked, shaking Tommy off him and scrambling up from the floor. Oliver took the hand that wasn’t holding the oxygen mask in place. 

“Really man? I told Andy on the phone that she was okay,” Dig raised an eyebrow.

“That’s the kind of thing you have to see to believe,” Tommy snapped. 

“As I was saying,” the doctor cut in. “Ms. Merlyn had a panic attack. The adrenaline release caused some cramping, and lack of oxygen caused some lightheadedness. But she is fine. We want to keep her here till her oxygen levels go back up, but the treatment for this kind of thing is usually making some lifestyle changes. Create a soothing environment and such.” He glanced at Oliver and Tommy as he spoke. “Something a few people in this room should consider. Though I still recommend that you-”

“Talk to an OB as soon as possible,” Oliver and Felicity said at the same time. Felicity pulled her oxygen away to speak. Oliver was encouraged by how strong her voice sounded. He bent over kissing her forehead and heard Tommy growl slightly in the corner, but they ignored him. 

“Any other questions?” 

Felicity shook her head. 

“I’ll be back to check your stats in an hour or so. Get some rest.” 

The doctor had barely left the room before Tommy spoke. “You need to cancel this summer session nonsense, Lis.”

“Excuse me?” she asked, pulling her oxygen mask away. 

“Classes have barely started and you’re having panic attacks and winding up in the hospital. I know you’re used to digging your six-inch heels in and doing what you think is best, but you have to think about-”

“It wasn’t the classes,” she whispered. Oliver studied her face and noticed her biting her lip, shooting him a worried look.

“Can we have a minute?” he asked. Tommy grumbled, but Digg got to his feet easily. 

“We’ll go find some coffee,” the bodyguard suggested, clapping Tommy on the shoulder. As the door swung shut behind them, Oliver took Digg’s stool and wheeled himself as close to Felicity as possible.

“What happened?” he demanded, slipping their fingers together. 

“Nothing,” Felicity muttered.

“Felicity.”

“It was nothing.”

It took a lot of effort for him to keep his voice measured. The protective father and partner in him wanted to roar, but going alpha male would not be well received. He was unable to prevent himself from huffing and rubbing his face with his hands. 

“If it was nothing we wouldn’t be in the hospital.” Even with the effort, there was a bite to his tone. “And you’re the one who always says marriage isn’t about keeping secrets. You’re supposed to want to tell me. It’s supposed to be a relief to tell me.”

“Not if I’m not sure how you’ll react.” Tears were filling her eyes. He squeezed her fingers, and brought the oxygen mask back to her face, letting her take several deep breaths. 

“I don’t want to push you,” he said slowly. “But if it affects you and our baby I think I have a right to know.” He touched her stomach, lightly to emphasize his point.

She pulled the oxygen mask back down, pointedly not looking at him. “Your mother asked me to lunch,” she told her blanket.

Oliver sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “What did she do?” It came out a growl.

“It was nothing. I probably overreacted. I shouldn’t have even gone because I know you said she didn’t take it well. I was hoping maybe she had gotten over it and was ready to move on and...It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that I’m worried you’re going to be mad or say she was right or-” she gasped slightly. Thinking her habit of babbling couldn’t help her oxygen levels he pushed the mask back up. She took several deep breaths and he rubbed her back slowly. 

“If we’re not keeping secrets anymore,” Oliver pressed, “you do have to tell me what happened. What did she say?” 

“She had a file on me. Things she said her PI had gotten a hold of. It was minor stuff, paparazzi pictures, and some of the articles those teen magazines did about me being a child genius.” 

His grip on her fingers tightened. 

“She had some of Malcolm’s financial records as well. She offered me five million dollars upfront to break up with you and another five to-” She stopped talking abruptly. Her breathing had gotten shaky again. Oliver helped tilt the mask back to her face. 

“An abortion?” he asked. She nodded. Oliver felt fury coiling in his chest. 

“I said no.”

Love for her flooded his veins and replaced the rage so quickly, he almost felt weak. 

“She can’t have taken that well.”

“She didn’t.”

“Did she threaten you?”

Her silence was answer enough. 

“You don’t have to tell me, right now if you aren’t ready.”

Felicity shook her head.

“She said she’d have her PI keep digging, looking for dirt on me. She implied that she’d get you to use it against me to take…” Her hand trailed to her abdomen. Oliver covered it with his own, pressing it firmly against her.

“I am not your father.” The words were simple and yet they prompted her to inhale sharply. “No matter what happens I will not take this baby away from you.”

She nodded tears springing to her eyes. He shushed her, sliding the stool up to her head and pulling her to his chest. She clung to him desperately, fingers digging into his henley. 

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “You’re alright. You’re with me. You’re safe.”  
“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not anticipate the number of comments the last chapter would get. The cliffhanger was a doozy though, but it's over now and everything is fine. Well, not fine. Oliver still needs to talk to Moira, but I thought we could use a little Olicity sweetness between all the drama.
> 
> I hope everyone is having a safe and healthy holiday season! This is probably my last update before 2021! So Happy New Year! Let's hope this freaking pandemic ends soon!


	6. Chapter Five

Inhale. Exhale. Oliver narrowed his eyes, focused on his target. His index finger and thumb pressed together a beat harder. He could feel the bow pulled flush against his cheek. Inhale. Exhale. He released and the arrow landed dead center in the target. 

“I still think we should try the gun range again. It’s less pretentious,” Digg muttered, raising his own crossbow and missing.

“Too loud,” Oliver reminded him. While sparing would allow Oliver to numb his body, it never managed to calm his thoughts or allow him to problem solve. Lyla had suggested target practice as a way to calmly think things over while focused on a physical task. The one time they’d tried the gun range, Oliver had a panic attack within minutes after walking through the door. The bangs and smell of the metal and residue reminding him of the sounds and smells during his “missing thirty-six hours” as Felicity and Thea called it. 

Digg had wanted to write the whole thing off, but Lyla sent them the address of Archery School on the edge of Starling City. At this point, Oliver was pretty sure he was the only reason they were still in business. 

“That was over two years ago,” Digg reminded him, reloading his crossbow. Oliver drew another arrow from his quiver. 

“I prefer this,” he confessed to Digg. “It’s outside.”

“And a popular spot for preteens who’ve read the Hunger Games too many times to have their birthday parties.” 

“The owner is a friend. He never puts us near those.” 

“Just because you dated Yao Fei’s daughter, doesn’t make him your friend.”

“True. Instead, we’re friends because I did such a spectacularly bad job dating her, she was motivated to go back to medical school.” Oliver let another arrow fly at a target attached to a tree, a little farther off. It landed with a thunk. 

“Not sure that’s something to brag about.” Digg’s next arrow found the target.

Oliver didn’t answer but pulled at his bowstring in thought. 

“We going to talk about why we’re here and not with your fiance at the hospital?”

“You were there. She kicked us out.”

“She kicked you out because you were all broody and driving her up the wall. I just tagged along to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Take your arrows over to your mother’s.” 

Oliver gritted his teeth, and was surprised with the speed and snap in the next arrow he fired. It hit within an inch of his first.

“You always did like a day with a low body count.” He paused before voicing the question that’d been bothering him. “You didn’t go into the restaurant with Felicity did you?”

“Nope. Waited outside, like I do with you. Plus I didn’t think your mother would keep paying my salary if she thinks I’m not protecting you.”

“I already transferred your charges to my account,” Oliver answered. There was a silent pause.

“I appreciate that.” Digg stalled shooting his next arrow, playing with the trigger on the crossbow. “Does that mean you’re cutting her out?” 

Oliver took Digg’s turn, firing off another arrow. He had no intention of answering that question, but his plan was foiled by his cell phone ringing from his bag. Thinking it was Andy with another construction problem, he pulled it out. His teeth gritted and his fist clenched on his bow when he saw his mother’s picture and number.

He ignored the call. And turned to Digg, pursing his lips. 

“We need to go to the manor,” he said, pulling his bow up and around the bag, before grabbing it and heading to the car. Twenty-five minutes later they were pulling up to the drive. Oliver sat in the front seat next to Digg, as he drove in silence. 

“Do you need me to come in?” the ex-soldier asked, cutting the engine.

“No,” Oliver answered, curtly, exiting the car. He didn’t ring the bell. There was no Raisa coming to take his coat. He walked into his mother’s sitting room, without knocking. She jumped upon seeing him. A man with striking blue eyes and quaffed haircut had been in the process of handing her a manilla folder. 

“Oliver!” she cried. “I wasn’t expecting you. I’ve been calling.”

The man got up, extending his hand. Oliver registered a business card in his palm. The card was transferred smoothly in a handshake. 

“No worries Mrs. Queen,” the man said, as Oliver checked his card. “Our business was done. I’ll just be in touch about the rest of the payment.”

The man nodded at Oliver and buttoned his suit as he took his briefcase out of the room. 

“Adrian Chase,” Oliver read off the card, flipping it out to his mother, whose face remained expressionless. “Private Investigator.” 

“Oliver-”

He cut her off.

“Do you know where the mother of  _ your  _ grandchild is right now?”

“Oliver, I was only doing what I need to do to protect you.”

“She’s in the hospital, which means by extension  _ your _ grandchild is in the hospital.” Oliver found his fingers were pressing together, as though he was drawing back a bow. “Apparently, she had a panic attack after leaving lunch with you at Giovanni’s.”

Moira waited for a beat. “Is she alright?”

“Don’t pretend you care,” Oliver snapped. “I told you, she didn’t need the stress. I told you to stay away from her, and instead, you threaten her with files from a PI and offer her ten million dollars to leave me and have an abortion.” 

“She shouldn’t have told you. I was going to up the offer.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. He took a step back, shaking his head. He could taste something metallic in his mouth. 

“What is wrong with you?”

“Oliver, this is what I do. I handle problems. I’ve done this for your father, for you. I take care of things.”

“What?”

“Oh don’t be naive. It’s not like I’ve never had to pay off one or two of your father’s mistresses before.” 

“What do you mean, you’ve done it for me?” His voice was like ice. Moira hesitated. “Mom!” 

“Samantha Clayton.”

The name instantly rang a bell. Samantha had never been his girlfriend. Technically, he’d still been with Laurel when they were together, but out of all of his pre kidnapping dalliances she stuck out because she was the only one who’d wound up pregnant. 

“Samantha miscarried,” Oliver whispered. It’d been a relief. He hadn’t been in love with her. He hadn’t been ready.

“I paid her one million dollars to tell you that.” 

Oliver took another step back, head reeling. “Are you telling me I have a-”

“No,” his mother cut him off quickly. “I gave her another million to have an abortion.” 

At the look on his face, she took a few steps towards him, but he made a guttural noise of distress and anger, holding up his fingers, stopping her in her tracks. 

“You weren’t ready then. And you aren’t ready now.”

“So it’s your place now to decide when I’m ready to be a father?”

“No, but, Oliver, you won’t be ready till you’ve settled down, and are with a good nice girl.”

“I’m settling down and I’m with a great, amazing woman.”

“No, Oliver, you’re not.”

“What is your objection to Felicity? She’s a Merlyn for christ's sake. Malcolm is one of your closest friends.”

“She’s a gold-digging daughter of a Vegas cocktail waitress!” Moira screamed, picking up the folder Adrian Chase had left. She shoved it into his chest. “Just read it.”

“I know,” Oliver whispered. 

“You-” Moira sputtered.

“Do you think she and I don’t talk? Her biological mother is named Donna Smoak. She lives in Vegas, and yes, she is a cocktail waitress. She had a brief affair with Malcolm Merlyn, and he and Rebecca sued for custody and took Felicity away from Donna. They never contacted her again, at least until Felicity did seven months ago, prompting Malcolm to cut her off. They talk every Saturday after lunch, and Donna is planning a trip to Starling City so they can meet in person. Did Adrian Chase manage to get that level of detail?” 

“No he didn’t,” Moira whispered.

He pushed the file back into her hands. “I tried to tell myself you were better than this, but I can’t deny it any longer. You’re a monster,” he said, turning away from her. 

“Oliver-”

“No.” He turned back, steps from the door. “I can’t. You’ve been lying to me, paying people off, making decisions for me. I won’t tolerate that.” He shook his head. “I will publicly support your charity events and the company, of course. I will keep up appearances for Thea’s sake, but as of right now, privately, you and I have no relationship. I’m done.”

“Oliver, you don’t mean that. You’re just upset right now. I-I only did it because I love you and I want what’s best for you.”

He ignored her completely and pressed on. “You will stay away from Felicity. That includes stopping this ridiculous investigation into her. And by extension, staying away from Felicity will also mean staying away from our child.”

Moira sucked in a breath. Oliver made eye contact with her for a long hard moment. 

“You wouldn’t do that,” she whispered.

“I absolutely would. You’ve proven you’re incapable of making decisions in the best interest of  _ my _ family. As far as I’m concerned you’ve surrendered all right to be a part of their lives. If I hear you’ve contacted her, or are still having her investigated, I’ll make this split public.” 

She closed her eyes taking a deep shaking breath.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Goodbye, Moira,” he said curtly, exiting her sitting room, without sparing her a glance. He was glad Digg had driven. His hands were shaking too much to take the wheel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The promised fall out for Moira. A lot of people commented that they can't wait to see Malcolm's reaction. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait. Felicity isn't talking to Malcolm right now, and Moira isn't exactly going to call him up and tell him what she did. I hope in the meantime, Oliver tearing into Moira is satisfying enough.
> 
> Anyway, Happy 2021! I hope you are all staying safe and healthy and are having a good New Year. Thank you so much for reading!


	7. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday people! Also happy last official chapter! I'll post the epilogue next week, and then there are three more parts to this series, officially, but then I was thinking of posting a story that is just stand-alones and one-shots in this universe. 
> 
> Good news for everyone! That means more story! Glad everyone is enjoying, stay safe and healthy.

Robert Queen may have been a philanderer. He was weak-willed, and he knew it. He didn’t make excuses for himself, because for the most part, he didn’t care, but only for the most part. One piece of him had been hurt when Moira cheated back, but deep in his core, he loved her. It had once been a passionate love but had faded over time to something deep, that transcended both their extracurricular activities. He sometimes thought that if they were less in the public eye and didn’t need to present an image to investors, they’d have come to an arrangement, an open marriage. But it was pointless to consider. Their family’s standing was worth too much. 

None of that changed how he felt though. He loved her, and at the end of the day, no matter how young or attractive the woman, he’d never leave his wife. He thought this made him a good man. It’d be years before witnessing his son’s marriage would prove that notion wrong. 

However, today, was not that day. He found his wife, collapsed on the couch in her sitting room. He’d heard the sound of her crying from his study, and finding her devastated in the late afternoon of a random Tuesday, surprised him. Normally her fits were reserved for evenings after large events and too much wine.

“Moira?” he queried from the door. She’d been quiet the last week, taking care of business, and he’d noticed a check on their account to Adrian Chase, her preferred private investigator. He hadn’t questioned her. He trusted her to be doing the right thing for their family. What confused him though was that he thought he’d heard their son.

“Was Ollie here?” he asked, stepping into the room.

“He left,” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her mouth. He handed her the pocket square from his suit. She wiped her eyes.

“What happened?” Robert’s heart was sinking. He had thought Oliver was turning his life around. He’d been thrilled, well not thrilled, but relieved when he heard Ollie and Tommy were going into business together. Opening a club, while not the future either their fathers had envisioned for them, was at least something. But of course, Ollie had found a way to screw it up.

“Drugs? Women? What?”

“He’s engaged.” 

“WHAT!”

“He proposed to Felicity Merlyn six weeks ago.”

“Oh,” Robert said, surprise filling him for an instant. He remembered his son calling him, asking if QC could throw Felicity some work. He’d written it off, thinking Ollie was asking as a favor to Tommy. He’d been impressed with her work and had given her more contracts without thinking it a favor at all. “That’s wonderful! I never knew, but she’s a brilliant girl. She’s been doing some independent contractor work for us. The head of Applied Sciences actually was going to offer her job, till he remembered she’s in graduate school.” 

Moira let out a sob. Robert frowned. 

“It’s not wonderful. She’s eight weeks pregnant.” 

Robert’s world reeled again, but only for an instant. Then a smile broke through. 

“That’s fantastic!” 

His wife, hiccuped, looking at him in shock. 

“Her brains and drive combined with his smile and naturally blonde hair. Moira,” he squeezed her hands, “our grandchild will rule the world. Sure the timing isn't great, but you remember how they calculate pregnancy. It sounds like they conceived around the time they got engaged. It wasn’t a motivating factor.” 

She let out a frustrated huff, and pulled a manilla folder over, passing it to him wordlessly. He opened it and recognized Adrian Chase’s business card stapled to the inside cover. That man was like a loose woman when it came out handing out those cards. He frowned looking over the documents. 

“Apparently, Malcolm cut her off because she contacted  _ that  _ woman. Oliver said they’ve been speaking every Saturday, and she’s planning a trip to visit.”

“Malcolm cut her off for that? I didn’t know. I’ll have to have words with him about that. It’s not her fault, and she has a right to meet the woman who gave birth to her.”

“Robert! Are you hearing what I’m saying? We’re going to share a grandchild with a Vegas cocktail waitress and Malcolm Merlyn! I can’t stand for it.”

Robert remembered he’d heard his son yelling. “What did you do?” he asked his wife. She paled. 

“I-I told Felicity that if she had an abortion I’d right her a check equivalent to her trust fund.” 

“What!” 

“It was about ten million dollars. She said no.”

“Moira, she let Malcolm cut her off because she wanted a relationship with her birth mother. She’s been working constantly, between her grad school program and doing programming work wherever she can, to support herself rather than give in to her father. The girl is not motivated by money.”

“I know that  _ now _ .”

“Oliver knows?”

“He’s furious. When she said no, I threatened her. She apparently had a panic attack after my offer. She’s in the hospital.”

“Is she alright? The baby?” 

“He wouldn’t say. He said that,” she paused, swallowing, tears streaming again. “He said that we’re done. That he considers our private relationship over. He’ll support the company and come to family functions out of necessity, but that’s it. He doesn’t want me near either of them.”

Robert listened quietly to her explanation and her sobs. He leaned forward and kissed her head before moving back towards his study.

“Where are you going?” she asked, in a panic. 

“To call him.” 

She let him leave. He closed the door to his study and fished his phone out of his pocket. He shrugged his jacket off, hanging it over the back of his chair, phone pressed to his cheek as it rang.

“I’m about to walk in somewhere, Dad.”

His son’s tone was clipped.

“Are you at the hospital?” There was silence on the other end, so he pushed ahead. “Your mother told me everything.” 

“Yes. I’m at the hospital.”

“Are they okay?” 

Oliver let out a shaky breath at the word they. 

“The doctors say they’ll be fine. She wasn’t getting enough air, and it was affecting the baby. So she’s on oxygen now. She’s supposed to rest.” 

“That’s a relief.” Something in Robert relaxed for the first time since hearing his future daughter in law was in the hospital. 

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Mom told you everything?” 

Robert didn’t hear any regret in Oliver’s voice. He wouldn’t ask if his son had changed his mind. 

“Yes, and I understand Oliver. You have to make decisions based on what’s best for your family. Keeping them away from your mother, at least until she gets used to the idea, is for the best.” 

“She won’t come around and even if she does, what she did…”

“I know.”

“Did you know about Samantha Clayton?”

Robert took a deep breath. Moira hadn’t mentioned that secret had been revealed. 

“She didn’t tell me till after, and I thought telling you would only hurt. You were relieved, and it seemed like a minor detail.”

“We’re the only family that would call a two million dollar bribe a minor detail.”

“Your mother did offer Felicity ten million. If anything I feel like I should send Samantha a bigger check now.”

“Don’t joke about this please.”

“I’m sorry.” There was a long pause. 

“Oliver, you’ll find, when you’re a parent that you’ll make mistakes. Most of them will be small, but occasionally, something unforgivable. But there’s nothing to do. It’s part of the journey, and all you can do is try to not make the same mistakes as your parents.”

“What are you saying?”

“Do better than me. Right my wrongs.” 

There was another long pause.

“Do you understand?” Robert asked. 

“Yes,” Oliver answered, tone flat. 

“Good. I want to get dinner with you and Felicity later in the week.”

“Without Mom.”

“Whatever you need to feel comfortable.”

“I’ll call you.”

“Thank you.” He hung up and heard the door creak open. Moira stood there, looking put back together. Her eyes were puffy but there was no other outward sign of distress.

“Well?” she asked.

“Felicity and the baby are going to be fine.”

Moira let out a long slow breath. He pressed on.

“It’s not something I can fix. You’ll have to do it yourself, and it’s going to take time before I think he’ll be receptive.” 

Moira nodded, a determined look coming into her eyes. 


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I have had the longest most stressful week ever, and I've decided since this chapter is short, I'm posting it now. We all could probably use a pick-me-up. I'll be posting the next story in the series probably on Tuesday so stay tuned for that!
> 
> Stay safe and healthy, please!

“I bet you regret not just being a human incubator now,” Oliver teased, setting down another box. The movers were zipping in and out with furniture as she directed them. It’d been a month since her panic attack, and Felicity was only a few short weeks from her second trimester. Her coloring had improved, as the morning sickness had passed. But Oliver’s favorite thing was that she’d “popped” as she put it. Her bump was hardly noticeable, easy to hide, but he couldn’t stop himself from touching it, every chance he got. 

“I regret nothing,” she answered, pushing a wheeling suitcase full of clothes towards the master bedroom. “I do not trust you to do the unpacking and work out the organizational system.”

“You are not organizing my kitchen,” Oliver called after her, smiling to himself. They’d finally found a compromise. She put in what she could afford, while he contributed double her number. That healthy budget had allowed them to purchase a three-bedroom apartment on a tree-lined street, within walking distance of the university and several parks. It was not in a fancy neighborhood. Oliver knew Moira would have objected strongly to the image of her son’s living location, but it was a relief to not have to think about it. 

There was a knock at the door. Oliver looked up to see Digg, coming in, carrying a gift basket. 

“House warming from Lyla and me,” he said, setting it down on the counter. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Digg!” Came an excited shriek from the bedroom. Felicity was on him in an instant. Digg’s eyes widened at the sight of her. He’d been off for a few weeks, while his friend Rob worked her detail. He hadn’t seen twelve weeks pregnant Felicity.

“Look at you!” Digg said, a smile cracking across his lips.

“Yes, yes. I’m glowing or whatever. Who cares,” she waved her hands to emphasize her point. “Baby pictures, please! I want to see how much my godson has grown.”

Digg naturally had several photos of baby JJ on his phone, and Felicity requested print outs and hard copies for the fridge. They sat on the stools at the counter, talking happily as the mover’s finished bringing up the furniture and Oliver began unpacking the kitchen. He smiled to himself, loving the chatter and how at ease they both already seemed in the new space. 

He was disappointed when his phone interrupted the happy moment. He was even more surprised when he saw the caller ID listed Tommy. 

“Hey man,” he answered, turning away from Felicity and Digg. “I thought you were at the club.”

“I was, but now I’m at the police station.”

“What?”

“Andy has been arrested.”

“For what?” Oliver asked. He felt a pang of guilt. He’d been unable to confirm Andy’s sobriety, what with everything going on. 

“Possession with intent to distribute. They’re accusing him and by extension us, of using the club’s construction as a cover to sell drugs. I know it’s your day off, but you should get down here.”

_ Shit.  _


End file.
